Mondays are terrifically busy days for us. It’s a race from school to sitting in a crowded ballet studio to rushing home and trying to do a little homework, then dinner and then bedtime. It’s the day of the week that I feel like I’m standing on a lazy susan just spinning around and around and I don’t really stop until I hit the bed that night.
More often than not, I find myself with very little patience on Mondays. I try to spend at least 30 minutes before I start this little marathon in quiet. Trying to prep myself for the spinning that is about to start. And more often than not I find myself standing in the kitchen frustrated with the words I’ve screamed at my children, dinner boiling over on the stove and me thinking that this mothering thing just isn’t working out quite right.
But in the midst of all that what do I do? I do stand in the kitchen and want to give up. But what am I giving up too? God calls us to abandon ourselves to Him. And that should evoke a sense of great freedom in us. Oddly though, I don’t want to give up control during those dizzy days. I hate the spinning, but to let go of it all means that I’m not in control of where I spin next. Letting go and abandoning my day, my moments, my mothering to those fighting children in the backseat and my wifeing to the husband that wearily walked in the back door, is what He has called me to. I can’t do all those things and I can’t spend my life condemning myself either.
In those moments when the world is running quickly past me are the times that I realize how much I’ve built my life like a box with God on the outside. Like the stuffing that protects a fragile item. I don’t really want Him to be in the box with me; I just want Him protecting me from the outside. The inside is never going to be quiet if I don’t let Him be in the box…be the center of that box. If I don’t break down the walls and step outside. Paul Miller in his book A Praying Life describes a life of prayer as a life that isn’t less busy, but a heart that is less busy. When the outer busyness bustles around us, we have an inner quiet. And when we have that inner quiet we are able to love greater.
We are no longer captive to the spinning that is going on around us. Will I still harp on my kids? Will I still jump on my husband with life concerns when he walks in the door? Will I still be terrified when the Lord continues to squeeze me in directions I don’t want to go?
Yes. But when I realize that all of these contribute to the greater story He is writing, I can rest in Him. I can go to Him. I can find my center in Him and break down the walls of the box I’m hiding in.
By this we know that we are of the truth and reassure our heart before Him;
for whenever our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart and He knows everything.
Beloved, if our heart does not condemn us, we have confidence before God; and whenever we ask we receive from Him because we keep his commandments and do what pleases him. And this is his commandment that we believe in the name of his son Jesus Christ and love one another, just as he has commanded us. Whoever keeps his commandments abides in him and he in them. And by this we know that he abides in us, by the Spirit whom he has given us. ~ 1 John 3: 19-24